On Drawing Prayer Circles (Reprise)

[[Dear Sister, have you heard of the books referring to drawing a circle around one's biggest dreams or needs and then standing there until the prayer is answered? They are based on the Jewish legend of Honi who drew a circle and prayed for rain. He stayed inside the circle until it rained and it did! God answered Honi's Prayer! I just wondered what you thought of this approach to prayer.]]

Hi there. I have heard of the books and seen them advertised on Amazon, but I have not read them. The legend of Honi, however, is one I am somewhat familiar with. Honi, a first-century BC scholar who is sometimes called the "one who draws circles", was faced with the need for rain during a drought. He eventually drew a circle and announced to God that he was not going to move until God sent rain. It was Winter, the rainy season when he did this. When a smattering of rain came Honi announced to God that that was not enough and reiterated his intention to remain there until there was real rain. There was a downpour and at this point, Honi told God he wanted (or the people of Israel needed) a quieter, less destructive rain; he said he would continue to stay in the circle until God sent that instead. At this point, there came a quieter rain which the ground could drink up and which would not be destructive because of flooding, mudslides, etc.

What is important to remember however are the two responses this action drew from Jews. Some excommunicated Honi because he had indeed blasphemed God by his actions. Others (a Queen) excused him saying he had a special relationship with God. There is ambiguity in the story and both wisdom and very real danger in the lessons we draw from it about prayer. Sometimes the line between the two is exceedingly fine; I personally believe Honi crossed the line despite also showing us some of the things necessary in a life of prayer and despite his special relationship with God. So let me say something about that and what I believe the author of these books on "drawing a circle of prayer" as well as what his readers must be cautious about.

The positive lessons on Prayer Honi gives us:

All prayer is meant to allow God the space to work in our lives. Under the impulse of the Holy Spirit we open our hearts to God so that God may enter those spaces, know us more profoundly (in the intimate Biblical sense), and accompany us in every moment and mood of our lives. That means opening ourselves in ways that reveal our deepest needs and dreams and doing so in a way that lets those dreams and needs be shaped, qualified, transformed, and answered by the presence of God and his own will or purposes. In other words, we hold our dreams and needs open to God's transforming and fulfilling presence. We take them seriously; we claim and honor them, but we also hold them somewhat lightly because God's presence can cause us to reevaluate and even redefine these in light of his love and purposes. For instance, my own dream to become a teacher or to transform the world is rooted in gifts coming from a really profound place within me which I must hold onto and express, but I must also be open to the possibility that I am not going to be teaching in the ways I thought I might nor transforming the world in the way I dreamt I might. The Kingdom of God comes through our attentiveness to our deepest needs, gifts, and dreams; we must not ignore these, but at the same time, that Reign rarely looks like what we thought it might.

Drawing a circle around my desire to teach, etc, allows me to get and stay in touch with the profound gifts within me, while praying about this allows me to open these spaces to God and to collaborate with God in becoming the teacher (or whatever else) he may desire me to become. Standing in this circle allows me to remain trusting in God's love and determined that the best use of my gifts be made, but I am neither defining (drawing) nor standing in this circle in order that God might be "informed" about who I am, what I feel, dream, or need, nor that his will be shaped accordingly. I stand in such a circle so that I may consciously and faithfully bring these things to God and allow their potential and promise to be realized in ways I may not have even imagined myself. Drawing a circle of prayer makes sense to me because it requires 1) a conscious claiming of gifts, needs, dreams, etc, 2) a faithfulness and deep trust in their potential and in the power of God to bring all things to fullness or completion despite ostensible signs otherwise, and 3) a commitment to watch for the ways in which God brings things to fulfillment even when these are contrary to my own plans and conceptions. Drawing a circle of prayer makes sense to the degree it demands and facilitates attentiveness and perseverance in prayer.

The Negative or Dangerous Elements in Honi's Approach to Prayer:

However, as I say, it is my opinion that Honi crossed the line that the leadership of the Jewish People considered blasphemous and worthy of excommunication. He moved from persevering prayer to blackmail or extortion, and he did so by treating prayer and the drawing of a circle as a way of leveraging God. When I think of what Honi did with the circle it sounds a lot like a child saying to their Mother, "I want cake for dinner and I am going to lie here in the middle of the floor until you let me have that! Not only that (once mom pulls out the vanilla cake mix!), it had BETTER be a chocolate cake!" Despite the vast difference between this and what I described in the last section, the line between these two is often a very fine one indeed and we need to be very careful never to cross it!

Prayer is always about intimacy with God but it is not the intimacy of peers, much less of persons who can dictate to God what their needs are and the ways in which they expect these needs to be met. Honi crossed this line as well. He forgot that in prayer he was dealing with the Master of the Universe, the One whom he was called to serve in persevering prayer, not one we can call on to serve us in a demanding and willful pseudo-piety. Perseverance is necessary in prayer, but stubbornness is a different matter. In prayer, we do indeed open our hearts to God, but we do so in a way that allows our dreams and needs to accept the limitations of reality and be shaped by that. We continue to hope, but the certainty of our hope allows flexibility and demands docility as well; God's purposes and will always ultimately eventuate in a fulfillment of what we dream of and desire or need most deeply. We need to trust that that is the case even as we allow ourselves to be instructed in the fact that we cannot always see or imagine the how or the shape of this fulfillment. We do not EVER dictate terms to God. It seems to me that Honi forgot most of these things in his own prayer.

Similarly, it is important not to think that God is outside the circle. We must understand that drawing the circle of prayer circumscribes a space where God is intimately present with us in the very circumstances we ourselves are suffering. We draw the circle and say effectively that we will stand here WITH God and trust in his life-giving presence despite all the difficulties and ridicule that may entail. Honi's actions seem very different to me than this. He seemed to be drawing a line in the sand (dust!) which separated himself from God and turned the situation into a "me vs God" struggle rather than allowing it to define Honi as an I-Thou covenantal reality. It is important in prayer to recognize that our truest needs and dreams are God's as well and that we stand together as covenant partners committed to the unfolding and fulfillment of creation. Even so, this is never the same as allowing prayer to become a kind of martyrdom (witness) against a God who finally capitulates to our demands.

Further, we must take care that the drawing of prayer circles not be allowed to deteriorate into a kind of magical thinking where if we do x (e.g., draw a prayer circle around my child), then y (e.g., his safety) will be the result. One of the real dangers of the idea of drawing prayer circles is that we begin to think that we have done what we need and therefore the result is assured. While this is similar to the extorting-God mindset (in some ways it seems like a "kinder, gentler, version") it is as contrary to the true dynamics of authentic prayer as is the demanding, self-centered, blackmail version of things. Since the author of these books has a version for children it seems to me that parents need to be particularly cautious in being sure they do not contribute to notions of prayer that have more to do with magical thinking than with prayer. Children outgrow magical thinking but if it becomes codified in their approaches to prayer this becomes a huge obstacle to developing a mature spirituality later in life and it contributes to unnecessary disillusion with religion and the practice of prayer.

Risk and tension are always there in our Prayer:

Finally, it seems to me that the Legend of Honi the circle drawer reminds us that there is always risk and tension in our prayer. Prayer requires boldness and steadfastness which can easily deteriorate into presumption and stubbornness. It requires an intimacy that runs the risk of devolving or being distorted into actual blasphemy.  After all, it is one thing to say, "Here I stand, I can do no other" WITH and for God; it is quite another to do so as though God was simply another person on the parish council who needed to be convinced and prodded into action. And of course, negotiating this risky business and coming to trust that God brings good out of even the worst circumstances even when we cannot perceive this, is part of what it means to learn to pray and to live a prayer life.  

As we mature in this we become better at a kind of "holy boldness" and an intimacy that is never presumptuous but which instead reminds us of Mary's part at the Wedding Feast of Cana. There she spoke directly, even boldly, to her Son about the needs of the host and she clearly knew her Son could do something about the situation. But Jesus drew limits as well and while Mary stood back a bit in light of these, she continued to trust in her Son and counseled others to do as he said. It seems to me that Mary's interactions with Jesus in that story are a more accurate image of the dynamics of prayer --- especially the "holy boldness"  required --- than Honi's legend itself manages to give us.

I hope this is helpful to you. You might also check out, On Persistence in prayer and other posts linked to the labels found below.

Followup Questions: Aloneness and the Experience of Transcendence

[[Sister Laurel, can you explain what you mean by experiences of transcendence during periods of isolation? Are you talking about mystical experiences in prayer? This makes sense to me but not for everyone and maybe for very few people. It wouldn't happen for younger children or for families (or persons) where there is no religion would it? I don't think you are talking about things used to escape the pain of such isolation so if I am right about that what do you actually mean? Also, when you speak of unchosen periods of isolation could this include solitary confinement in prisons? Could prisoners also have such experiences of transcendence? Could they become hermits? Lastly, if an experience of solitude is healing and inspiring why would a person still need therapy or other help to deal with the harm done to them by being isolated?  Thanks.]]

Yes, an experience of transcendence is one which 'comes from' beyond the person herself,  but ('works') through her and with her, and thus, also draws her beyond herself to some extent.* It may occur when we have reached the end of our own resources to lesser and greater degrees. I tend to identify such experiences with God but we can use the language of beauty, truth, depth, etc., as well. One of the best conversations on such experiences I have ever had was a brief exchange between my violin teacher (Laura Risk) and myself. We were working on the Bach Double and had talked about allowing the notes to be transformed into music; as part of preparing the piece we had gone through various passages and noted the emotions or feelings we wished to communicate and also planned the actual memories we would each access to allow this  to be realized. We were talking about transcending the notes and other instructions on the page by tapping into our own emotional and inner lives. At the same time that our memories and emotions gave a fresh life to the music some of these memories were redeemed (given a new value and meaning) by becoming part of this music. This too was part of the experience of transcendence --- though not the heart of it.

Our conversation morphed into one on what it was like to play and compose music and especially to combine these skills to improvise (because both of us were talented in this and did a lot of "just playing" apart from written parts and scores). In doing so we drew upon our own inner lives in the same way, but we recognized something more as well. Laura commented that for her playing in this way was about "tapping into the music of the universe" --- something that was ever present there beyond and all around us, but also something which could sound within and through us. I commented that in my language (theological or spiritual) I would describe this experience as being in dialogue with the Transcendent or even touching into the Divine and allowing that to work in and through me. I said I might even call this prayer.

Whether we used the language of "music of the universe" or of "God" and "prayer," we were both describing an experience of mediating the Transcendent through our own minds, hearts, spirits, and muscles --- for we, with all our limitations and gifts, were still the ones playing and improvising. Both of us, I think, had a clear sense of something "living", something greater than ourselves sounding and singing itself through us and doing so in ways which challenged and stretched us musically and as persons. We both knew in an intimate way this reality which could sustain us even as it transformed and let us transcend the concrete circumstances of our lives --- even  as it inspired us to create amazing music and in the process empowered us to become more than we were. A somewhat similar experience is associated with art and literature of all kinds. In How Does a Poem Mean? John Ciardi once referred to a piece of this experience of empowerment and transcendence when he wrote that (reading and writing) poetry, like karate, had the power to save us as we wandered some night through a dark alley. The transformation of our lives from those of inarticulate suffering (when that is our experience) and struggle, to amazingly articulate expressions of beauty, truth, and meaning is at the heart of genuine experiences of transcendence.

Mystical Prayer?

While I am not speaking of mystical experiences of prayer per se I am certainly speaking of the dynamics and reality of prayer itself. Although I never really thought of the improvisational violin playing I did through Junior High and High School as prayer, there is no doubt in my mind that it was during these years that I learned something absolutely fundamental about prayer.

Today I speak of that by saying God worked or spoke (or sang!) Godself in and through me --- though in no way did it cease to be my own playing! I was open to that for many reasons --- some having to do with talents and gifts and others with yearning rooted in great need and deficiency. I was disposed toward "obedience" in our Christian language and the result of all that was the prayer God accomplished within me via violin. Of course, I experienced the Transcendent in many ways during those same years --- just as most of us do. Only later did I learn to pray in more explicit ways and only much later did I experience what might be called "mystical prayer". But at bottom, from violin, to lectio divina, to study and writing, to contemplative or mystical prayer, and all the ordinary moments in between, it was the Transcendent experienced mainly in silence and solitude that defined all of these.

While I don't think children (or the majority of adults for that matter) will have mystical experiences per se, I do think every child experiences the Transcendent, knows what it means to transcend their everyday lives, and can understand the mediation of transcendence through experiences of play, storytelling and reading, imagination, art, etc. As children the experience of transcendence is central for us. Everyone who has watched (or tried to deal with!) the incessant "WHY?" of children has been watching little explosions of transcendence and the drive to transcendence. The same is true of watching the rapt face of a child hearing her first Dr Seuss or (later maybe) reading a Harry Potter book, or a small child humming to herself as she colors. Such experiences use the deep resources of our own minds and hearts, the capacity for joy and play and spontaneity we have, as well as our own talents and skills, but they also can come from beyond us just as they lead us beyond ourselves.

As children (and as adults!) we read stories, we imagine ourselves in different worlds and different roles; we see and are inspired to see ourselves as capable of great feats of courage and creativity, of love and generosity. We develop the skills to bridge the gap between the "real world" and the world of our imagination and to create a different future for ourselves and others. We write symphonies and novels, create and test scientific hypotheses, develop new medicines to vanquish old enemies, build cities (starting with the ones we made of dirt and toy cars), and philosophical systems, and homes, and families and in every conceivable way we become witnesses to and mediators of transcendence. It is what we are made for, after all.

On Prisoners and Solitary Confinement:

I have written about solitude and prisoners once before a number of years ago now in Notes From Stillsong: Prisoners as Hermits. I did not write specifically about solitary confinement and am ambivalent about the possibilities of experiences of transcendence within solitary confinement or in regard to some there becoming hermits. While I do not want to limit God and either his will or power to bring life out of death, meaning out of the absurd, or, in this case, solitude out of isolation, it remains true that the person requires certain resources to help this process. Transcendence  implies not just being open to the Transcendent but also having some means to express this and to develop our openness further. Access to books and Bibles, paper, writing implements, a musical instrument, art materials, etc, are just some of the tools (resources) I have in mind here. Ordinarily God works in and through such things.

Prayer is a privileged way to the Transcendent but usually this develops in stages. We see this when we move from meditation to contemplative prayer. It is usually a mediated reality. Entering the biblical story frees our minds and hearts to some extent and opens us to the Word of God. It provides characters, values, relationships, and situations we can imaginatively interact with --- interactions which both encourage the growth of the light and help check the darkness in our own hearts. Drawing, Writing, and Reading all do something similar. Occasional conversations with others is also usually an important and even indispensable resource here as well --- especially when that someone has the capacity to help us negotiate the trap of living in our own heads and hearts, and thus too, of believing everything we think or experience is the voice of God.

Solitary confinement of itself is certainly an example of an enforced and unchosen isolation, and God can certainly move through the walls and bars of this cell as through any other. Some few may well need little else and be gifted with relatively unmediated or direct experiences of God. Generally, however, such confinement must also have some minimal resources which allow for both the mediation of the Transcendent and for our own  experience of transcendence. When this is true, when there is both physical solitude and sufficient even if minimal resources allowing for mediated reception, response, and expression, then yes, it is entirely possible for the prisoner to find him or herself transfigured into a hermit or someone with the heart of a hermit.

The Continuing Need for Healing and Therapy:

One of the indisputable truths of physical solitude, especially as isolation, is that it tears down before it builds up. When that isolation is forced on us then it becomes doubly damaging. Consider what happens when someone's family shuns them, especially if that is an extended event. Not only are they cut off from the ordinary source of formation and education as a person capable of real intimacy, but they have been rejected and hurt by those who, more than any other (except God) are meant and assured to love them. Even when one discovers and experiences the Transcendent in a way which redeems the experience of shunning, the hurt and pain are real and will need to be dealt with. Often, it will take serious healing before one can even understand the extent and import of the experience of transcendence that was also involved. The pain and loss is simply too great.

Moreover, genuine experiences of the Transcendent take time to bear recognizable fruit. Unless healing occurs, this fruit may never be fully realized or realizable. One may survive the immediate experience and have been transformed by it, but whether that is more ultimately for the better or worse will ordinarily take time to really manifest --- not least because the capacity for good and bad, creativity and destruction, are both contained in the experience of physical solitude or isolation. Still, I can speak of developing the "heart of a hermit" in some essential or fundamental sense during (for instance) a period of enforced and extended isolation whenever transcendence is experienced in ways that overshadow the destructive dimension of the isolation. Such a heart is ultimately necessary for any genuine hermit.

But whether that heart (which has been shaped both for ill and for good, so to speak) will lead to the life of a self-deceived and self-deceiving individualist, that of a misanthrope, or a narcissist with room for no one but herself, or whether it will mature into the edifying heart of a true hermit who responds to God's call and chooses the silence of solitude because she loves God, herself, and others --- the heart of one who (appropriately) persists in that response with courage and fidelity --- is a question only time and real healing will answer. As with the parable of the weeds and wheat or better maybe, the parable of the soils, we simply can't see or know what the tender green shoots of that heart will grow into; we do not know whether they will be truly nourishing to others or merely weeds, whether they will prove to be rootless or deeply rooted in God. We must let (and assist) them grow to maturity and for that to happen care of all sorts, often including therapy, is necessary.

Meanwhile some will eschew healing (including therapy and spiritual direction) and play at being hermits while their woundedness keeps them psychologically and personally crippled. The "witness" they give to the Transcendent is superficial at best and entirely unconvincing. Others will avoid such pretense but, no less crippled, act out their loss, anger, and pain on the world around them in other ways. And some will seek healing in all the ways it is necessary so that their own witness to the God who transfigures a disedifying and barren isolation into an edifying and fruitful solitude is profoundly convincing and helpful to others.

* One of the most profound and cogent analyses of "the transcendent function" in the human person is Carl Jung's. I am not unaware of this analysis but my focus here is a specifically theistic model or notion of transcendence and experiences of "the Transcendent". In fact, I think the two models, especially with their similar notions of dialogue and teleology are profoundly complementary. Jung's analysis certainly explains the above example of the "music of the universe." Jung himself, while speaking of the unconscious used the words numinous or holy to describe dimensions of the experience of transcendence and "the transcendent function" to describe the dimension of the human person that mediates between conscious and unconscious; I do so in a deliberately and explicitly theological sense to describe the dialogical nature of the "communion with God" whom we know as the authentically human being.

On Drawing Prayer Circles

[[Dear Sister, have you heard of the books referring to drawing a circle around one's biggest dreams or needs and then standing there until the prayer is answered? They are based on the Jewish legend of Honi who drew a circle and prayed for rain. He stayed inside the circle until it rained and it did! God answered Honi's Prayer! I just wondered what you thought of this approach to prayer.]]

Hi there. I have heard of the books and seen them advertised on Amazon, but I have not read them. The legend of Honi, however is one I am somewhat familiar with. Honi, a first century BC scholar who is sometimes called the "one who draws circles", was faced with the need for rain during a drought. He eventually drew a circle and announced to God that he was not going to move until God sent rain. It was Winter, the rainy season, when he did this. When a smattering of rain came Honi announced to God that that was not enough and reiterated his intention to remain there until there was real rain. There was a downpour and at this point Honi told God he wanted (or the people of Israel needed) a quieter, less destructive rain; he said he would continue to stay in the circle until God sent that instead. At this point there came a quieter rain which the ground could drink up and which would not be destructive because of flooding, mudslides, etc.

What is important to remember however are the two responses this action drew from Jews. Some excommunicated Honi because he had indeed blasphemed God by his actions. Others (a Queen) excused him saying he had a special relationship with God. There is ambiguity in the story and both wisdom and very real danger in the lessons we draw from it about prayer. Sometimes the line between the two is exceedingly fine; I personally believe Honi crossed the line despite also showing us some of the things necessary in a life of prayer and despite his special relationship with God. So let me say something about that and what I believe the author of these books on "drawing a circle of prayer" as well as what his readers must be cautious about.

The positive lessons on Prayer Honi gives us:

All prayer is meant to allow God the space to work in our lives. Under the impulse of the Holy Spirit we open our hearts to God so that God may enter those spaces, know us more profoundly (in the intimate Biblical sense), and accompany us in every moment and mood of our lives. That means opening ourselves in ways which reveal our deepest needs and dreams and doing so in a way which lets those dreams and needs be shaped, qualified, transformed, and answered by the presence of God and his own will or purposes. In other words we hold our dreams and needs open to God's transforming and fulfilling presence. We take them seriously; we claim and honor them, but we also hold them somewhat lightly because God's presence can cause us to reevaluate and even redefine these in light of his love and purposes. For instance, my own dream to become a teacher or to transform the world is rooted in gifts coming from a really profound place within me which I must hold onto and express, but I must also be open to the possibility that I am not going to be teaching in the ways I thought I might nor transforming the world in the way I dreamt I might. The Kingdom of God comes through our attentiveness to our deepest needs, gifts, and dreams; we must not ignore these, but at the same time, that Reign rarely looks like what we thought it might.

Drawing a circle around my desire to teach, etc, allows me to get and stay in touch with the profound gifts within me, while praying about this allows me to open these spaces to God and to collaborate with God in becoming the teacher (or whatever else) he may desire me to become. Standing in this circle allows me to remain trusting in God's love and determined that the best use of my gifts be made, but I am neither defining (drawing) nor standing in this circle in order that God might be "informed" about who I am, what I feel, dream, or need, nor that his will be shaped accordingly. I stand in such a circle so that I may consciously and faithfully bring these things to God and allow their potential and promise to be realized in ways I may not have even imagined myself. Drawing a circle of prayer makes sense to me because it requires 1) a conscious claiming of gifts, needs, dreams, etc, 2) a faithfulness and deep trust in their potential and in the power of God to bring all things to fullness or completion despite ostensible signs otherwise, and 3) a commitment to watch for the ways in which God brings things to fulfillment even when these are contrary to my own plans and conceptions. Drawing a circle of prayer makes sense to the degree it demands and facilitates attentiveness and perseverance in prayer.

The Negative or Dangerous Elements in Honi's Approach to Prayer:

However, as I say, it is my opinion that Honi crossed the line which the leadership of the Jewish People considered blasphemous and worthy of excommunication. He moved from persevering prayer to blackmail or extortion, and he did so by treating prayer and the drawing of a circle as a way of leveraging God. When I think of what Honi did with the circle it sounds a lot like a child saying to their Mother, "I want cake for dinner and I am going to lie here in the middle of the floor until you let me have that! Not only that (once mom pulls out the vanilla cake mix!), it had BETTER be a chocolate cake!" Despite the vast difference between this and what I described in the last section, the line between these two is often a very fine one indeed and we need to be very careful never to cross it!

Prayer is always about intimacy with God but it is not the intimacy of peers, much less of persons who can dictate to God what their needs are and the ways in which they expect these needs to be met. Honi crossed this line as well. He forgot that in prayer he was dealing with the Master of the Universe, the One whom he was called to serve  in persevering prayer, not one we can call on to serve us in a demanding and willful pseudo-piety. Perseverance is necessary in prayer, but stubbornness is a different matter. In prayer we do indeed open our hearts to God, but we do so in a way which allows our dreams and needs to accept the limitations of reality and shaped by that. We continue to hope, but the certainty of our hope allows a flexibility and demands docility as well; God's purposes and will always ultimately eventuate in a fulfillment of what we dream of and desire or need most deeply. We need to trust that that is the case even as we allow ourselves to be instructed in the fact that we cannot always see or imagine the how or the shape of this fulfillment. We do not EVER dictate terms to God. It seems to me that Honi forgot most of these things in his own prayer.

Similarly, it is important not to think that God is outside the circle. We must understand that drawing the circle of prayer circumscribes a space where God is intimately present with us in the very circumstances we ourselves are suffering. We draw the circle and say effectively that we will stand here WITH God and trust in his lifegiving presence despite all the difficulties and ridicule that may entail. Honi's actions seem very different to me than this. He seemed to be drawing a line in the sand (dust!) which separated himself from God and turned the situation into a "me vs God" struggle rather than allowing it to define Honi as an I-Thou covenantal reality. It is important in prayer to recognize that our truest needs and dreams are God's as well, and that we stand together as covenant partners committed to the unfolding and fulfillment of creation. Even so, this is never the same as allowing prayer to become a kind of martyrdom (witness) against a God who finally capitulates to our demands.

Further, we must take care that the drawing of prayer circles not be allowed to deteriorate into a kind of magical thinking where if we do x (e.g., draw a prayer circle around my child), then y (e.g., his safety) will be the result. One of the real dangers of the idea of drawing prayer circles is that we begin to think that we have done what we need and therefore the result is assured. While this is similar to the extorting-God mindset (in some ways it seems like a "kinder, gentler, version") it is as contrary to the true dynamics of authentic prayer as is the demanding, self-centered, blackmail version of things. Since the author of these books has a version for children it seems to me that parents need to be particularly cautious in being sure they do not contribute to notions of prayer that have more to do with magical thinking than with prayer. Children outgrow magical thinking but if it becomes codified in their approaches to prayer this becomes a huge obstacle to developing a mature spirituality later in life and it contributes to unnecessary disillusion with religion and the practice of prayer.

Risk and tension are always there in our Prayer:

Finally, it seems to me that the Legend of Honi the circle drawer reminds us that there is always risk and tension in our prayer. Prayer requires boldness and steadfastness which can easily deteriorate into presumption and stubbornness. It requires an intimacy that runs the risk of devolving or being distorted into actual blasphemy.  After all, it is one thing to say, "Here I stand, I can do no other" WITH and for God; it is quite another to do so as though God was simply another person on the parish council who needed to be convinced and prodded into action. And of course, negotiating this risky business and coming to trust that God brings good out of even the worst circumstances even when we cannot perceive this, is part of what it means to learn to pray and to live a prayer life.  As we mature in this we become better at a kind of "holy boldness" and an intimacy that is never presumptuous but which instead reminds us of Mary's part at the Wedding Feast of Cana. There she spoke directly, even boldly, to her Son about the needs of the host and she clearly knew her Son could do something about the situation. But Jesus drew limits as well and while Mary stood back a bit in light of these, she continued to trust in her Son and counseled others to do as he said. It seems to me that Mary's interactions with Jesus in that story are a more accurate image of the dynamics of prayer --- especially the "holy boldness"  required --- than Honi's legend itself manages to give us.

I hope this is helpful to you. You might also check out, On persistence in prayer and other posts linked to the labels found below.

Changing the world in continued faithfulness and perseverance

Deacon Greg of Deacon's Bench blog posted an astonishingly beautiful couple of picture symbolizing the impact of one person's prayer over time. Quoting the story he read, he writes: [[According to the report: "70 year-old Buddhist monk Hua Chi has been praying in the same spot at his temple in Tongren, China for over 20 years. His footprints, which are up to 1.2 inches deep in some areas, are the result of performing his prayers up to 3000 times a day. Now that he is 70, he says that he has greatly reduced his quantity of prayers to 1,000 times each day."]]



We often are tempted to think our prayers produce no fruit, no perceptible change, or that faithfulness especially to the tedium of monastic, eremitic, or lay lives is worthless. In fact we simply cannot see the effects of our faithfulness, our perseverence in all the small acts of faith and commitment to living our lives in Christ we undertake day in and day out. Remember these pictures. Beautiful as they are, they are but a shadow of the changes such faithfulness and perseverence bring in and to our world.